


Temptation

by lostinmymindforever



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinmymindforever/pseuds/lostinmymindforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shouldn't do this, shouldn't want this, but each night Dean sneaks into Sammy's room and watches him sleep, one hand down the front of his pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Temptation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cammerel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/gifts).



Dean doesn't know when he started doing it, when he started watching Sammy sleep, one hand down the front of his pants, biting his lip so that Sammy wouldn't wake while he touched himself. But it seems like he's been doing this forever, sneaking into Sammy's room, stroking himself, thinking about Sammy's mouth wrapped around his cock, thinking about sliding into bed with Sammy, thinking about fucking his baby brother. 

Each night he does it, comes with Sammy's name on his tongue before going back to his own room and crying himself to sleep, full of shame and desire. He wants Sammy so much, needs him like he needs air and he can never have him. He knows that he is sick, twisted, broken inside, that if he ever did more than watch, if he ever touched Sammy he’d never be able to stop. 

And yet every night he does this, every night he watches with desire. And lord help him on the nights they have to share a bed, when Sammy moves in his sleep, curling tightly against Dean’s body, his ass taunting Dean with things he shouldn’t want. He doesn’t sleep those nights, too afraid of doing something in his sleep, too afraid that Sammy will figure it out and call him a freak, a pervert, or worse, that Sammy will want this too. 

He’d be damning them both, putting them on a path that they could never walk away from, but the temptation is always there. The only thing to do, the right thing to do would be to leave, to get as far away from Sammy as possible, but Dean’s not strong enough for that. 

He thinks that his father might know, might have some clue to his thoughts, as he’s been giving Dean these looks, like he wants to tell him to stay away from Sammy, but doesn’t have the proof to do it. Dean’s trapped in this cycle of want and disgust and need, and he doesn’t know how to get out. 

And then it happens, the one thing he dreaded, the one thing he wanted. Sammy moaned his name, and it wasn’t one of his nightmare moans, it was one of pleasure, of want, and even though Dean had just come, even though he was just about to sneak back to his his room, he was hard again, so fucking hard for Sammy.

He knows he should go, knows he should leave and never come back like this, but he finds himself moving towards Sammy’s bed, finds himself standing mere feet away from him, watching as Sammy tosses and turns, listening as Sammy moans his name. He’s about to throw caution to the wind, about to slide under the blankets with him when he hears the car pull up. 

He races back to his room, heart pounding, breathing hard. Dean pulls the blankets over himself, tears of shame running down his face. He can hear his father’s footsteps outside Sammy’s door, can hear his father walking towards his room. The door opens a crack and he knows his father can see him, laying there trembling, shaking under his covers. He hears his dad move into the room, feels him rest his hand onto his shoulder. His dad tells him it will be alright, that everything will be fine. But his dad obviously doesn’t know the truth, he probably thinks that Dean just had a nightmare.

After his father leaves Dean wills himself to sleep. His dreams are filled with thoughts of Sammy, of all those things he wants to do with him, to him. When he wakes the house is quiet, far too quiet to be normal. Something is wrong, and his fears are confirmed when he goes into Sammy’s room only to find it empty.

The car is missing, as are most of Sammy’s things. Dean’s lost, broken, his one and only constant gone. He sits in the empty living room, waiting, hoping that they’ll be back, that Dad and Sammy just left to go to the store. But he knows that thought is foolish. 

Dad returns a week later, alone. He doesn’t talk about Sammy, no matter how many times Dean tries to bring him up. And after a week of this, after a week of John’s silence and Dean’s prodding John slaps Dean, telling him that Sammy is safe now, away from those who would hurt him.

Dean is broken, empty. He has nothing anymore, what relationship he had with his father died that day. Dean sets out on his own the minute he turns 18, taking the Impala and setting out, searching for his beloved little brother. Dad tries to find him, Dean knows that his father is searching him out, but Dean knows how to hide if he needs to.

And then, one fateful day, almost six years after Dad took Sammy away, Dean found him. But Sammy had changed. Gone was the kid brother so much smaller than him, and in his place was this tall young man. But the eyes, the smile were the same. And Dean knew the minute Sammy saw him, saw him swallow hard and start walking Dean’s way.

God, Sammy was 18 now, an adult, bigger than Dean, and fuck if Dean didn’t still want him. He wanted him even more now, after years of searching, desperate years of trying to find the one person he had ever loved, he’d finally found what he was looking for.

He didn’t expect the slap Sammy gave him, but he could understand in a way. But feeling Sammy’s arms wrapped around him, feeling that body pressed against him, holding him tightly, hearing Sammy crying, sobbing that Dean found him, that he finally found him, almost broke him. 

He followed Sammy back to where he was staying, met the family who had taken his brother in all those years earlier. Sammy, no Sam now Dean had to remind himself, Sam asked him what happened, asked him why, and Dean told him the truth. Told him everything. God, he knew that Sam would probably hate him, be disgusted with him for saying what he wanted, so the kiss came as a pleasant surprise.

That night he watched Sam sleep, for the first time in six years, though this time his vantage point was much closer, Sam wrapped in his arms, head resting on his chest, their legs intertwined. They had a lot to catch up on, but this was the new beginning they needed.


End file.
